


a song for Alex

by bydayorbynight



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Alex Manes Deserves Nice Things, Alex Manes Loves Michael Guerin, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Compliant, M/M, Michael Guerin Deserves Nice Things, Michael Guerin Loves Alex Manes, POV Michael Guerin, Post-2x13, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:06:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27653144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bydayorbynight/pseuds/bydayorbynight
Summary: Michael writes a song for Alex after hearing Alex sing at the Wild Pony.—In other words, I just wanted to rewrite Would You Come Home by Tyler Blackburn.
Relationships: Michael Guerin/Alex Manes
Comments: 26
Kudos: 84





	a song for Alex

A flutter of muffled applause and light cheering drifted into the parking lot of the Wild Pony. Michael smiled to himself as he stepped towards his truck. Alex deserved it, of course. He’d always be the first to say Alex deserved the world and then some.

But as he drove away from the bar, the lingering confidence in his proclamations to Isobel, some of it bravado, most of it self-delusion, had started to deflate.

“It’s not our time yet,” came easily to him now, like towing the company line. He had repeated it to himself so many times, like some sort of mantra, he had started to believe it. As if calling Alex “bro” a few thousand more times would help him regard Alex as some distant fraternity brother he met up with for watered down beers every six months. 

The truth was, he couldn’t stay for the song. It was like hearing a recording of your own voice, completely familiar yet distinctly uncomfortable. For Alex it was cathartic, and he understood that. But for Michael, it was just another reminder of all the things he’d rather forget. Their entire relationship had been built upon looking in the rearview mirror and, yeah, what a view.

Michael had left. He knew how it looked. Another day, another entry into their anthology of missed connections. It would be comical if it weren’t so sad.

But as he approached home, an idea was forming. This wasn’t the end. No. Michael slammed the truck door shut, making his way to the Airstream. He was going to connect the dots this time. Hell, he was going to finally make a fucking constellation out of just two dim stars.

He was going to write a song for Alex.

_Ding!_

There was just one text message from Isobel.

“God, you are so stupid.”

* * *

In the cold glare of morning, Michael’s songwriting aspirations suffered a kick in the gut. He didn’t really know how to write a song. He barely knew how to play guitar these days, it had been so long, his fingers stiff and clumsy from lack of use.

And then the Airstream door was opening and Isobel was stepping in with doughnuts as if she were entering her own bedroom. She sidestepped a worn sweatshirt. “Ew, can I hire you a cleaner?”

Michael looked up at her defeatedly and sighed. “Why do you do this to me?”

Isobel feigned offense. “Excuse me, I am here to save you from yourself. Why didn’t you answer my text?”

“Um, I’m not really sure how to respond to a text like that?”

“Michael.” Isobel’s face got close to his. “Alex _kissed_ Forrest. He kissed him! After _your_ song, in front of everyone! I know you said it’s not the right time, but is this really what you want?”

Michael brought a hand through his tangled, bed head of hair and tried to act nonchalant. He knew Alex and Forrest had been forming a relationship of sorts. He might have been too afraid to think about what that actually entailed. A kiss was probably a foregone conclusion. But in front of everyone? That was...unexpected.

He took a deep breath. “Alex is free to kiss whoever he wants. It’s not like I was saving myself up.”

Isobel gave him a withering look. “You really are a bad liar, I’m surprised you’ve made it this far in life.”

Michael was about to interject, but thought better of it.

“Look, Michael. I know things haven’t been easy between you two. But he literally sang a whole fucking love song to you, in public! And he looked really sad when you left.”

“Oh, is that why he made out with Forrest after?” Michael asked, each word dripping with acid.

“What was he supposed to think? Anyway, I feel partially responsible because I let you leave, so I’m here now, rectifying it. You need to talk to him. Or else he’s going to ride off into the sunset with some guy with green hair, who's, like, really short, by the way, and took maybe one creative writing class in college and now thinks he’s a slam poet.” She rolled her eyes.

Michael suppressed a self-indulgent chuckle. There was no better person than Isobel with which to share an enemy.

He leaned back and crossed his arms. “Okay, you can spare me the speech. For once I’m actually ahead of you on this one.” 

She looked at him quizzically. He continued, “In other words, and as much as it pains me to say this, you’re right.” Isobel’s face brightened at those two little words, her favorite. 

Michael spoke slowly, as if he were still translating his emotions into words. “I was thinking about it last night. I think I'm still trying to protect myself from Alex, and now I’m at the point where, like, I don’t even care anymore. He can literally destroy me, and it’s fine, as long as he knows where I stand, as long as I’m not the reason we’re not together. I don’t want to be the person holding us back. He can do whatever he wants to me. But I’m laying it all out there either way. You know what I mean?”

Isobel looked at him warmly, taken aback by the rare display of self-reflection. “I love you. And I don’t want you to be destroyed, but I don’t think Alex will let that happen either. I mean, you guys have been through a lot...”

Michael let out a mirthless laugh. “Yeah, mistakes were made...”

“And you’ve learned from them! Like right now! You are going after what you want. I’m proud of you.” She placed a hand on his shoulder.

“I’ve been thinking of writing him a song.” He said it tentatively, like he couldn’t believe it himself, couldn’t believe the words were coming out of his mouth.

“Wait, what?” Isobel smiled, eyes twinkling and her confusion thinly masked.

“I don’t know, Iz. It’s a bad idea. But Alex and I, we always connected through music. I just thought it would be, I don’t know, a nice gesture? I don’t fucking know.”

Isobel looked like she was watching the final scene of her favorite romantic comedy. “Um, yeah, that is a grand romantic gesture. Wow, Michael, I...”

“Okay, I don’t want to talk about it anymore. It was just an idea. I’ll figure it out.”

“Wait, Michael, do you even know how to write a song?”

* * *

Michael was staring at the doorknob. It looked new, like it had just been polished. He didn’t know why he was here at Alex’s doorstep. He had a phone, for God’s sakes. This was so 90s sitcom of him, but for some reason it felt easier to drive here than to stare at his phone and painstakingly think through what exactly he was going to type.

The door opened and Michael stepped back with a start.

“Hey, Michael,” Alex’s greeting was hesitant, like he was on the razor-thin edge between hope and utter devastation and he wasn’t quite ready to fall, just yet. He tried to plaster on a smile, but it came on uneasily. “You, uh, testing out the new security system?”

Crap. Michael stared at his shoes. Who knew how long Alex had been watching him through the camera as he hovered over the doorbell for more than a few minutes.

“Hey, Alex. Uh, good job on open mic night,” Michael managed to force out plainly without meeting his eye.

Alex paused before looking directly at Michael with all the courage he could summon in the moment. “Look, Michael. I know things—I mean I—what I did wasn’t right, the back and forth, last summer, and I know that I hurt you. And this is probably the last thing you wanted to hear from me. But I really didn’t know you were going to be there at...”

“Alex, Alex. It’s fine. I know what it meant for you, to sing that song. I get it. I’m glad that you did.”

A brief sigh of relief escaped Alex’s lips. “Thanks.” He knew better than to look at Michael with that particular brand of nostalgic love tinged with sadness, but he couldn’t help himself. “I did mean it, you know, about...”

“I know.” Michael said, and then again, softer. “I know.”

It was quiet between the two of them as they let the unsaid words percolate in the air. Finally, Alex asked, “Is that what you came here to talk about?”

Michael straightened up, determined to find some ounce of elusive levity between them, and gave him a crooked smile. “Actually, I wanted to see if you still have Greg’s guitar? I guess I’ve been inspired lately.”

* * *

Three weeks passed by without a word. Alex had gone on two dates with Forrest and was planning their next when Michael once again showed up at his doorstep, this time with the guitar.

“You can keep it for longer, you know. Greg doesn’t really play anymore,” Alex said when he saw him in the doorway.

Michael was not the anxious type. But standing there in front of Alex, knowing what he was about to do, was sending his heart racing to the point where he started to question whether he really understood alien anatomy at all, that maybe this wasn’t just nerves but a condition that would, in fact, kill him. 

“Um, are you okay? You look kind of pale,” Alex said when he didn’t get a response.

The sun was setting, dipping below Alex’s roof and sending ribbons of pink and orange and a little lavender through the dimming sky. Michael took a deep breath. It was now or never.

“Yeah, no, I’m fine.” Michael struggled to find the words as he braced himself for a conversation he had never thought he needed to be prepared to have, in all its awkward and fumbling glory. He felt seventeen again, and a little ashamed that the saga had gone on for so long that now he was almost 30 and in this state of arrested development. 

“I, um...” He cleared his throat and clutched the guitar even more tightly. “I actually, uh, wrote you a song. And I was wondering if you would be open to hearing it.”

Alex’s facial expression changed instantly, but was still inscrutable. “Oh...um, wow, yeah, that’s...do you want to come inside?”

Michael knew that if he didn’t start playing right then and there it might never happen. “If it’s alright with you I can just do it here.”

“Oh, um...yeah, sure.” Alex took a worried peek at the neighboring houses but no one was outside.

Michael slung the guitar strap over his shoulder and began to play. 

_(To the tune of “Would You Come Home” by Tyler Blackburn)_

“My mother tried to shield me from the havoc  
That all this planet, she knew, had in store  
She said when you’re safe from harm I’ll come and find you  
But she never got to, so I stayed alone

“I was left behind  
Didn’t know people could be kind  
'Til you showed me something new  
From then on, it was always you  
Even though you left my side  
I never could just close my eyes  
Now you're staring into mine

“Let’s meet here in the middle  
Throw the score out one last time  
If there’s battles you still need to win  
We’ll fight them side by side  
You could call off the battalion  
Sometimes there’s no war left to fight  
Build a door into your walls  
And call this house our life  
And if we did  
I’d stay the night

“Together we could tame all the disorder  
Over and over, left in our minds  
Learning love and loss under a sunlit sky  
The darkness from outside was always wrong

“I was left behind  
Didn’t know people could be kind  
Til you showed me something new  
From then on, it was always you  
Even though you left my side  
I never could just close my eyes  
Now you’re staring into mine

“Let’s meet here in the middle  
Throw the score out one last time  
If there’s battles you still need to win  
We’ll fight them side by side  
You could call off the battalion  
Sometimes there’s no war left to fight  
Build a door into your walls  
And call this house our life  
And if we did  
Would you stay the night?

“I still gaze at stars and wonder, maybe, I’ll find a home  
But I’ve begun to realize with you there’s just no need to roam

“Let’s meet here in the middle  
Throw the score out one last time  
If there’s battles you still need to win  
We’ll fight them side by side  
You could call off the battalion  
Sometimes there’s no war left to fight  
Build a door into your walls  
And call this house our life  
And if we did  
I’d stay for life

“Finally found the words to say when it felt right  
In a song you wrote for me  
In a song I wrote for you”

Michael searched Alex’s face for a sign as he strummed the last G chord. When it was clear a response wasn’t coming from Alex’s stunned expression, he offered, “You don’t have to say anything. I just figured, you know, it’s only fair. A song for a song, or something like that.” He chuckled nervously. “Sorry for jacking your melody, I’m still getting the hang of this songwriting thing.”

The last line seemed to stir a thought loose from Alex’s head and break him out of his trance. He shook his head. “No, um, that’s...fine.” He lifted his gaze. “Wait, Michael. What was that? Is that really how you feel? I’m just...what are you saying?” 

Michael raised the guitar over his head and set it aside, stepping closer to Alex, who was furrowing his brow. The nerves were gone, leaving only a sense of liberation. He smiled at Alex’s look of concern. Alex, so thoughtful, so serious. He loved it, every emotion that played across his face, every crease around his eyes, every inch of his soul and every moment of his existence, from what was to what would be. 

He grasped Alex’s hand with both of his. “I’m saying, you are the best thing that has ever happened to me. But it’s more than that. It’s not even about what’s happened in the past. It’s about what’s happening now. This is our time, right now. I don’t want to waste anymore time without you. And yeah, you’ve got shit you need to work through. You know what? So do I. But we can do the fucking work, together. We don’t have to go through this shit apart. We can grow, like, together.”

Alex was silent for a beat. “I’m afraid that all I seem to do is hurt you, Michael,” he said quietly.

“Don’t worry about me. I’m a big boy now, Alex. And if loving you means I’m opening myself up to get hurt, I’m still taking my chances. I know it’s not going to be easy, but I know it’s fucking worth it.”

Alex could feel that unwelcome sting behind his eyes, the one he usually tried to stamp away through sheer force of will. But standing in front of Michael whose heart was laid bare before him, feeling the warmth of his hands—there was no need to hide anymore. 

“I want that. I want you, to be with you, and just, love you.”

Michael was now inches from Alex’s face, smiling. “Okay, then let’s do it. Not everything has to be a war, Alex.”

And with that, Alex couldn't help himself, launching into a forceful kiss that was met with equal vigor as the dusk descended upon them. It was both breathtaking and the simplest thing in the world. In other words, it felt like coming home.

After what seemed like forever, Alex finally pulled away from their center of gravity, opening his eyes to set them on Michael’s. “You’re right. All’s fair in love, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> This was basically a shameless attempt to write Forrest out of the narrative while acknowledging everything that has happened so far.
> 
> Want to hear the song? I demo-ed it here: <https://youtu.be/P7FA-KZKvhQ>. I am not a curly-haired dude in a cowboy hat so you’ll have to use your imagination.
> 
> Comments are super appreciated :)


End file.
